


sorry hot stranger

by infinitesimalwords



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: AU, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-17 20:49:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3543338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinitesimalwords/pseuds/infinitesimalwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke should probably stop assuming that every brunette with braids is Octavia. Maybe if she did, she wouldn’t be in this situation right now. </p>
<p>aka the “I mistook you for my best friend and jumped on your back in public and now I’m embarrassed” au</p>
            </blockquote>





	sorry hot stranger

Clarke should probably stop assuming that every brunette with braids is Octavia. Maybe if she did, she wouldn’t be in this situation right now.

 

* * *

 

Clarke and Octavia went way back to when Clarke was a preppy, adorable eight year old princess and Octavia was a cute eight year old tomboy that loved wrestling and any physical contact sport.

As the two grew up together, they took on some of each other’s traits and became more balanced. Over the years, Clarke loosened up and grew into a woman that could handle a fight. (Octavia had been away for a few days and when she got back, Clark had scrapes and bruises on her legs. Octavia fumed, but instead of kicking ass, she took the time to teach Clarke how to beat the big bullies when she wasn't there).  Octavia slowly grew out of her tomboy phase, thanks to Clarke’s constant need to do makeovers on her. (Octavia secretly enjoyed them, but she had a feeling that Clarke knew. However, the day that Clarke taught her how to braid her hair was life-changing.)

But, some things never change, like Octavia’s habit of tackling her as a greeting. To be fair, Octavia claims that she’s just an overly aggressive hugger.

 

* * *

 

_(Clarke stumbled a few steps back, taken off guard by the sudden attack on the front of her body. One second she was standing in line to get her new student ID, and the next, she was engulfed by another body._

_But she knew by the braids that it was just her best friend._

_Clarke groaned as the keys in her hands dropped, trying to escape Octavia’s strong grasp. “Octavia! Let me go!”_

_The brunette pulled back with a grin on her face. “That’s no way to greet your new roommate.”_

_“And that-“ Clarke gestured between them, “is no way to ensure that I live a long and healthy life. You’re gonna suffocate me someday.”_

_“I’m just an aggress-"_

_“Yeah, yeah. An aggressive hugger,” Clarke mumbled, picking up her dropped keys.)_

 

* * *

 

It’s not to say that Clarke doesn’t have her own special way of greeting her best friend.

 

* * *

 

_(“O!”_

_Clarke always gave her fare warning._

_Octavia grunted as she bared Clarke’s weight on her back and shifted so that she had her arms wrapped around the blonde’s legs, giving her a piggy-back ride. When nine-year-old-Clarke started doing this, Octavia was always a bit wobbly on her feet, but by now, Octavia was accustomed to the blonde’s tactic. It also helped that she was more fit than the blonde, taking part in martial arts._

_“I think you’re taking your nick-name too seriously, princess.”_

_Clarke circled her arms around Octavia’s neck._

_“As your commander, I order you to take me back to our room,” Clarke said mockingly._

_Octavia rolled her eyes. “I was on my way there anyway.”)_

 

* * *

 

Octavia said that she would meet her outside of the art gallery. She suggested that they go to the new exhibition to get Clarke’s muse going since she’s been having an artist's block.

Clarke’s running late because her alarm didn’t wake her up from her nap, so she’s a little groggy. None the less, she quickly spots a figure waiting in front of the building by the grass. As Clarke gets closer, she recognizes Octavia’s signature braid and smiles with relief.

“O!”

Clarke jumps onto her back, but she knows immediately that something isn’t right. Because the next thing she knows, they’re both heading for the ground at an alarming speed.   
  
This hasn’t happened since they were nine years old, or that one time in fourth grade when Octavia was really sick and kept it from the blonde.   
  
That is the first clue.   
  
Clarke hits the ground with a thump and tumbles off the other body.   
  
The second clue is the uncharacteristic groan that comes from somewhere beside her. Octavia always  _swears_  before groaning. (It used to get her a lot of trouble when they were kids.)  
  
The third clue is the green pair of eyes glaring at her. Octavia had green eyes, but they didn't have this stoic look.

_Shit._

Wait, she meant to say that out loud.

“Shit,” Clarke’s mouth gapes, "I am _so_ sorry.”

“What the hell.”

Clarke blanks for a moment when she properly gets a look at her, because,  _wow,_  she is really pretty. Clarke’s face starts to heat up as the realization hits her. She just literally jumped a hot stranger.  
  
(If they met under different circumstances, Clarke could imagine that she’d jump her eventually.)   
  
The girl clears her throat and stands up angrily. “What the hell was that for?”   
  
Clarke snaps out of her thoughts, catching up with the girl. “Sorry, sorry! I thought you were my best friend,” she says quickly, trying to backtrack as much as she can.   
  
The brunette crosses her arms and huffs. “Do you make a habit of jumping on people?”   
  
“No, of course not! I only jump my best friend,” Clarke explains as if it’s any consolation.   
  
The girl raises her eyebrows.  
  
Realizing that it could be taken as a double meaning, Clarke hurries to explain. “Not in like, _that_ way, but in a friendly way. Because we’re best friends.”  
  
“Why don’t you say best friend again? I don’t think I caught that part.” Her voice is biting, still recovering from the shock of being knocked off her feet.   
  
“Best friend,” Clarke repeats stupidly then blushes, realizing that she was being mocked. 

Clarke is digging her own grave and she needs someone to bury her immediately.

The girl lets out a small smile. (She’s still angry, she reminds herself, but the blush that adorns the offender’s face prevents her from getting too angry).   
  
Clarke clears her throat and attempts to find an out to this conversation before she bursts of embarrassment. “So I’m gonna go find my -“  
  
“Best friend,” the girl fills in for her.   
  
Clarke is sure that she cannot get any redder or hotter right now. “Right. Again, sorry for jumping you.”  
  
The brunette gives her a small nod before Clarke turns and just about runs into the art gallery. 

 

* * *

 

“Clarke!” Octavia says as soon as she sees the blonde enter. “Where’ve you been? I’ve been waiting for you.” Octavia opens her arms and gives Clarke a tight hug.   
  
The blonde groans into Octavia’s shoulder and mumbles, “I just jumped a hot girl.”  
  
Octavia laughs and lets go of the embrace to get a better look at her blushing friend. “Don’t you do that all the time?”  
  
“Shut up. _Not like that_. I jumped _on_  her because I thought she was you.” Clarke buried her face in her hands.   
  
She snorts. “I’m here now. You can jump me if you'd like,” Octavia says, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.   
  
“I hate you.”

“You won’t after I introduce you to this girl I met in my martial arts class.”  
  
Clarke groans. “No more girls. I can’t, please. Not after that horrific experience I just had.” She sighs pathetically. “She was so pretty and I made an absolute fool of myself.”  
  
“Forget about her, Clarke. Now this new girl,” Octavia pulls the blonde by the elbow, “I hung out with her today and I think you two will get along _great_.”  
  
Clarke follows behind Octavia begrudgingly, staring at the back of her head, when she remembers.   
  
“She had braids just like yours.”  
  
Octavia hums. “Is that so? You can’t just assume that everyone with braids is me, Clarke."  
  
Clarke notices that Octavia’s hair isn’t in its usually braids, which is somewhat odd. It was braided when the brunette left their room this morning.

“Where are your braids?”  
  
“I was showing Lexa how to braid her hair and I needed my hair ties so I took them out,” she answers off-handedly, finally finding who she was looking for. 

She briefly wonders who this 'Lexa' is before her mind starts connecting the dots. 

Wait a minute-  
  
“Lexa!”  
  
The second Lexa turns around, Clarke freezes.   
  
_Holy shit._ This cannot be happening right now.   
  
Octavia pulls her to where Lexa’s standing, or at least she tries to. “Come on, Clarke. Don’t be shy.”  
  
“Um, I need to, uh, go somewhere.”  
  
But it’s too late because Lexa’s standing right in front of her and Clarke is staring with panicked eyes and slightly parted lips.   
  
Lexa turns to Clarke then back to Octavia, a look of recognition in her eyes. “So, this is your best friend?”    
  
Clarke isn’t sure if she’s asking her or Octavia, but it’s Octavia who answers with a resounding “Yes, this is Clarke.” Octavia notices Clarke’s quietness and nudges her.   
  
Clarke clears her throat and forces herself to say _hi_ , but instead she nods and says, "Octavia is my best friend."  
  
Lexa laughs, free and cute, and Clarke’s throat constricts just a little bit more. At least she doesn’t seem so angry anymore.

Octavia brushes off Clarke's odd behaviour, attributing it to her recent embarrassment, and turns her attention to Lexa.   
  
“Hey, you kept the braids in,” Octavia comments, fingering a strand of Lexa’s hair. She laughs to herself remembering what Clarke just told her about the jumping a girl with braids -  
  
Her hand stops as realization dawns on her. Lexa is wearing the braid that Octavia usually wears. Clarke jumped a girl because she thought it was Octavia; because the girl had Octavia's braids.   
  
Clarke eyes her suspiciously as Octavia steps back from Lexa, poorly hiding her smirk from the blonde. Octavia knows, and if Clarke knows her at all, Octavia is going to use that information to either:  
  
1\. Embarrass Clarke  
  
2\. Try to be a wing-woman and leave her alone with a girl, which leads back to number 1.  
  
Octavia pretends to look at her phone and excuses herself. “Sorry, I have to take this call-“  
  
“Your phone didn’t even-“  
  
“I have to _make_  a call. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be back in 15 minutes.”   
  
Octavia is gone before Clarke can even protest.   
  
Clarke turns back to Lexa, takes a deep breath, and says, “Hey.”  
  
“So you _can_  say something other than ‘best friend’.”  
  
“Yeah,” Clarke trails off, “Sorry for jumping on you.”   
  
Lexa shrugs, “It’s not everyday that a pretty girl jumps you.” She’s amused at how easily Clarke blushes and wonders if it’s a regular occurrence for the blonde or if it’s just Lexa.   
  
Clarke’s mouth opens then closes, not sure what to say because is Lexa flirting with her? At the rate that her body is heating up, Clarke isn’t even sure if she can flirt back.   
  
Lexa notices Clarke’s hesitancy and continues to speak, hoping to put the girl at ease. "Besides, if I learned anything, it would be that I need to improve on my awareness and defence.” She furrows her eyebrows. “You weren’t exactly stealthy so I’m not sure why I didn’t react fast enough.”   
  
Clarke chuckles at that, because even though she called out Octavia’s name before hand, Lexa was reprimanding herself for what Clarke did.   
  
“Don’t worry about it. It took Octavia years of practice,” she says, finally relaxing for the first time since she’s met Lexa.   
  
“I can see why. You are quite strong, Clarke.” Lexa rubs at her shoulders, “My body’s still a bit shocked from the impact.”  
  
“Are you hurt? Oh god, I used you as a landing cushion and didn’t ask if you’re injured.” Clarke moves closer, seemingly looking Lexa over for any prominent injury.   
  
“I’m fine, really. Just a few grass stains and bruises.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Clarke asks, wondering if the girl is masking any of her pain.  
  
Lexa rolls her eyes. “Yes, Clarke. Now stop looking at me like that."

"Sorry, just worried," Clarke mumbles, putting some space between them. 

Lexa can't help, but feel a certain pull to the blonde, tempting her to close the space between them again.

"Well, if you're worried, you can check up on me tomorrow to make sure I don't die." 

Clarke senses the teasing, but she nods earnestly. "Yeah. I mean, I'd like to make sure you're okay." 

The sincerity hits Lexa just as hard as Clarke's attack on her earlier on in the night. 

Lexa is quiet, and Clarke wonders if she's offended her somehow, but before Clarke loses her nerve, she says, "How about I give you my number and you can text me if anything goes wrong?" 

Her reaction is somewhat late, but Lexa nods and reaches into her back pocket to retrieve her phone.

The pair exchange numbers and just as they finish, Octavia chooses this moment to wander back in. 

"Sorry, important call. Hope I didn't miss anything too important," Octavia side-eyes Clarke. 

Clarke shrugs her shoulders. "Not really." 

Lexa agrees, remaining pensive, subtly observing Clarke. 

"Well, the night is still young, so let's try to revive your muse, Griffin!" 

Clarke feels like there’s no need because her fingers itch to draw the way Lexa is looking at her right now.

 

* * *

 

After a night of wandering around the exhibition and making comments, the trio start to leave, but of course, as they exit the door, Octavia is no where to be seen.

_(Clarke would ask where she went later that night and Octavia would reply, "I got swept by the crowd. You know how I am, Griffin, I go with the flow.")_

The two stand around for a bit, waiting to see if Octavia would appear, but to no avail, she doesn't. Clarke guesses she's going to part ways with Lexa without Octavia.

"I'll be waiting for updates on your condition," Clarke jokes and Lexa rolls her eyes.

"I could be saying the same for you. You did fall with me after all."

"I fell on you, there's a difference."

Lexa snorts and says, "So I fell for you." 

Clarke punches her arm and blushes. "Shut up."

The brunette chuckles at a flustered Clarke before taking pity on the girl.

"I have to go now if I want to be remotely functional for my martial arts class tomorrow."

"Don't you and Octavia have the same class?"

Lexa nods. "One class, but I teach morning classes for kids on the side."

The image of Lexa teaching little kids assaults her mind and immediately warms her heart. Clarke can't handle all this fluttering in her chest, so she takes a quick step forward and kisses Lexa on her cheek. 

As she steps back, Clarke witnesses the blush spread on Lexa's cheeks for the first time and she feels satisfied. 

"Don't let any of the kids jump you," Clarke teases light-heartedly.

Lexa is still flustered by the kiss, but she manages to say, "I know better now." Then pecks her on the lips.

It's fleeting and fast, but Clarke still feels it - the taste of something more.

"Bye, Clarke."

 

* * *

 

**Lexa (7:02 a.m.):** i am not dead

**Clarke (7:37 a.m.):**  good

 

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me at akated.tumblr.com !


End file.
